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Dan and Debbie, Hannah & Gregory

December, 1988
DAN & DEBBIE
BADER
P.O. Box 381
Lodwar, Kenya
AFRICA
CHRISTIAN MISSIONARY FELLOWSHIP Prayer Newsletter
TURKANA
"How can you live there?" we were asked
time ajfler time as we made presentations
about Turkana before leaving the States last
June. I have to admit we a^ed the same
question many times, wondering, "How can
we live in such a barren wilderness?" We
told ourselves we could do it with God' help,
but, nevertheless, we were nervous.
It's uncomfortable doing things when
you're not sure of the outcome. It's our na
ture is to stick with things we understand
and can control. In coming to Kenya, we
were very uncomfortable because there
seemed to be so little we could control or un
derstand. That was one big step for us, but
since then we've been confronted by Uttle
steps of the same kind one after another.
Here are some examples:
What's your reaction to the idea of drinking
sour goat's milk with big lumps in it (when
you've heard that sometimes urine is put in
to make it more sour)? Makes you a little
uncomfortable, doesn't it? Soon after we ar
rived, Ralph Brune, a fellow Turkana team
member, took me to the home of a close
friend. I hadn't given much thought to
drinking sour milk, but suddenly I was
confronted with a big container of it, lumps
and all.
What do you do? My world view says give it
to the dog if it's sour, and throw it away if it
has lumps. Here was a Turkana friend of
fering me a great giftperfectly soured. I
had to make a decision, so I began to drink
it when they weren't looking because I
didn't want them to see me almost gag each
time I took a drink. My world view was so
strong that it affected me physically. My
stomach was trying to refuse what my
brain told it was bad. Since then I've had
sour milk many times, sometimes much
worse than that first time, but I've found
that my brain and stomach now agree that
it's okay. It's not mysterious anymore.
Here's another example. One day I was in
vited to something called Lodanga. I'd
heard it translated as "Jumping," and I'd
heard uncomfortable rumors about what
might occur. The Lodanga was being held
under a full moon a couple miles from our
house. The picture in my mind was one
such as I'd seen on television with people
doing all kinds of weird things. I wasn't
too anxious to go, but 1 felt for some reason
God wanted me to, so I agreed. All evening
I kept hoping they'd forget to come get me,
but no such luck. They were even early in
picking me up.
I grabbed a sheet and a hat (essentials for
Lodanga I'd been told), and we began walk
ing through the dark. Already some of the
mystery began to wear off. The moon was
bright, and we could see very well. I was
going with a couple of famiUes; old men
down to little kids. There was electricity in
the air, especially in the kids. They ran all
around us, jumping the way I would see
later, laughing and chattering all the way.
Upon arrival, the electricity crackled even
more as other families began to arrive. We
drank some sour milk (naturally), and
went over to where Lodanga was bemg
held. I was still ejecting something bi
zarre up to this point, but something finally
chcked... this was like a family reunion
back home.
The old men and old women (that's a com
pliment here) sat around the outside of the
circle and chatted while the kids, up to
about my age, "jumped" in the circle. It
was like a high school dance, only with
more chaperones.
I could see the boys and girls flirting and
making eyes at each other just as you'd ex
pect, but it didn't go any fuirther than that.
It wasn't mysterious anymore. It was fun,
and later even a little boring. On another
night, Debbie and the kids went with me to
Lodanga. Debbie escorted a young girl to
one on another occasion so her father
would let her go. He reminded me of fa
thers in America.
Sometimes the Turkana think we're a Uttle
mysterious. We have a big dog that we treat
royally compared to how they treat dogs.
When we left for a few days, we gave some
food to a young Turkana boy to feed the dog.
It was food that people eat, so I somehow
had to make it clear that it was only for the
dog. The Turkana are always hungry, and
it's unthinkable to give a dog food. I also
had to make him understand that he was
not to treat the dog the rough way that he
would normally.
I finally told him that this dog was like an
old man's favorite bull. To an old man, a
favorite bull is his best friend. He sings
12/88
CHRISTIAN MISSIONARY FELLOWSHIP
P.O. BOX 26306, 5674 CAITO DRIVE
INDIANAPOLIS, IN 46226
ADDRESS CORRECTION REQUESTED
songs about it and treats it very gently. So I
told LongeleiOy "This dog is my favorite
bull." He understood immediately even
though I'm sure he thought I was a little
strange. Slowly, we're becoming a little
less mysterious to him.
Since June, we've been confronted with
mysterious confi:ontations like these one af
ter another. As we've worked our way
through them, we've discovered that
they're all perfectlv normal. It just takes a
leap of faim into uie unknown, and we trust
God to help and protect us.
We're very anxious for people fi:om home to
visit us, so they can share the joy of finding
something normal out of what seems so
mysterious. Start planning now to come.
The family's doing fine in every area. None
of us have been very sick, we're all adjust
ing to the people and the climate of Turka
na very well. Debbie and I are working
hard at learning the Turkana language.
This is one area where we still ask for your
prayers. We have such a long way to go.
There isn't room to explain why we can't
seem to get any pictures to you, but the next
newsletter should include some. Also,
there should be a videotape available soon.
Check with the Christian Missionary Fel
lowship office.
In His service.
Dan, Debbie, Hannah, and Gregory Bader
Nonprofit Organization
U.S. Postage
PAID
Permit No. 2975
Indianapolis, Indiana
mission services
editorial dept
p 0 BOX 2427
KNOXVILLE tn 37901

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